Not Even One Normal Night
by Sebe
Summary: Their lives are weird, but really, how much of the surrealisim that is their world can the Winchesters be expected to take? Cracky. Needed after angst-filled episode.


Rating: PG

Summary: Their lives are weird, but really, how much of the surrealisim that is their lives can the Winchesters be expected to take? Cracky. Needed after angst-filled episode.

Author's Notes: Never written something completely crack before, but the angst right now is unbearable! I needed some relief.

**Not Even One Normal Night**

Dean wandered back to the motel room after a full night of beer and pool hustles and…

He grinned

Well, a full night.

He was digging for his keys, but stopped dead in his tracks as Sam emerged from the room. His little brother's hair was in disarray, his eyes wide and darting about, and he was visibly shaking. Dean frowned as Sam started to pace back and forth quickly, muttering to himself and appearing to all the world to be an escaped mental patient.

"Sammy?" he approached quickly and Sam startled and stopped to look at him.

"Dean!" His eyes were even wider and he took a step towards his older brother. Dean was starting to think this was a nervous breakdown or something.

"Dean, it- I-. It wasn't my fault. They just showed up in all new bodies and said they respected me for defeating them and could 'sense my power' and the other two that we didn't see came too and they said they were going to stick around now and-"

"Sam! Take a breath, stop." He grabbed his frantic brother's upper arms. "What's going on?"

Sam took a few deep breaths, swallowed and tried again.

"They're- Hotel. Here." He managed.

Dean was at the door, kicking it open to get the drop on whatever was inside. He fired at the first thing he saw. Which happened to be a young guy around their age holding up some stray clothing- Dean's clothing- and setting it on fire.

With his finger.

The bullet didn't faze the stranger and he went on about his business, touching the television and grinning as it exploded.

"What the hell are you?"

The guy turned to regard Dean briefly and quickly disregarded him as no threat.

"Hey!" Dean still had his gun on the creature, though he didn't know why. "I said-"

"I said not to touch anything."

Sam was at his side, still shaking as he spoke to the creature.

"I didn't do anything 'harmful'. You said 'harmful'." He grinned like a child who'd gotten away with stealing a cookie, but sat on the bed anyway and refrained from any further destruction.

Sam's hand shook as it came up to rub the bridge of his nose, a stress-induced migraine apparently forming.

"You _know_ what I meant."

_Okay._

Dean slowly lowered his weapon and shut the door behind them to keep out any unwanted visitors.

Like the one currently sitting on his bed.

"What the hell's going on?"

Sam's voice held more than a touch of hysteria as he introduced them with an exaggerated movement of his arm.

"Dean, War. War, Dean."

"We've met. I believe you still have my ring."

Dean's mind stuttered.

"…What?"

Sam sighed and he collapsed heavily to the other bed, still massaging his temples and not looking at Dean.

"They came about a half hour after you left-"

"They?" _Holy shit, there were more?_

"Yep." War, _War_, smiled at Dean. "We're all back together and walking Earth again for the first time in thousands of years. We like to stay close to each other. We're brothers too, ya know."

Dean chose his next words carefully.

"…Where are the other ones?"

Sam groaned, but answered.

"They all showed up in new bodies. Famine and Pestilence had hijacked humans that weren't dead so I made them take them back and told them to find other vessels."

"…What?"

Sam sighed and War stepped in.

"My host is 100% dead, my friend. Wanted to make a good impression on the boy king."

"Burning clothes and destroying property is not a 'good impression'"

War shrugged.

"You- Why-" Dean took a breath, turned to his brother. "If they're listening to you-", Which raised a whole new set of questions he didn't think he could handle the answers to right now, "Why didn't you just tell them to leave?"

"I did. They won't."

"We chose our allegiance, we're not going anywhere."

"I thought you were the poster boys for the Apocalypse."

"We never asked to be. Angels, demons, they're all controlling dicks and Lucifer and Michael are their kings. But humans have always been so powerless before now that there wasn't any choice. Thanks for that whole third option thing."

Dean started to say something but noted the sound of running water.

"Who's in the shower?"

"Death."

"Of course." Dean nodded at the insanity and plopped down next to his brother. He was on verge of his own version of Sam's psychotic break, but stunned disbelief was holding it at bay for the moment.

They all sat in silence for a bit until War started to fidget and tentatively reached toward the electric alarm clock, intent clear.

"Stop it." Sam deadpanned and War pouted like a scolded child.

"You have to let us be ourselves to some degree. We're not gonna help in the Apocalypse if you don't want us to, but we are still Horsemen. Our nature is our nature."

"Said the scorpion to the frog." Sam muttered and put his head in his hands.

There was a noise at the door and Dean jumped up to get it, hoping against hope that it would open and a portal back to the real freakin' world would be on the other side. He wrenched open the door, looked out into the night, looked down, and quickly slammed the door behind him.

The eldest Winchester turned and leaned against the wood surface, scrubbing his hand over his face. Yea, there it was. That was the trigger for the nervous breakdown he'd been waiting for.

Sam looked at him, concerned.

"What is it?"

"It's for you."

Sam frowned, but got up to open the door himself as Dean moved back from it. He saw nothing at first, but then glanced down at the small herd of Chihuahuas and Pomeranians.

He blanched.

"Christo." All their eyes flashed black and Sam heard a short, hysteric laugh from Dean.

"Oh good, they got the message." War spoke up happily. "I got the word out to the ranks of the disillusioned demons that you weren't really fond of them taking human hosts. Looks like they're starting to arrive."

"Oh. Good." Because what else could he say?

Sam glanced over the crowd, prevented from entering the room by the line of salt at the threshold.

"Look, the animals are great, I appreciate the gesture, really, but- is that a gerbil?"

"Hampster." War called "They ran out of dogs."

Sam's shoulders slumped and he joined his shell-shocked brother back on the bed, leaving the door open. He stared at the collection of furry things for a while and sighed resignedly.

"Just- take back the ones with collars. No pets. Find strays." Three of the dogs ears drooped, but they slunk off into the night obediently.

Dean ran the situation over in his head. War was sitting harmlessly on the bed, Famine and Pestilence were out getting new dead hosts, Death was currently scrubbing up with his loufa, and there was a herd of demon-possessed dogs –and one hamster- at the door. All pledging their allegiance to his 'I just want world peace and a normal life' boy-king of a little brother.

"Well-" Dean started, licking his lips and trying to compose himself. "Maybe we can get them to wear bells so at least we can hear them coming."

Sam nodded and collapsed back onto the bed in exhaustion.


End file.
